


underneath the mistletoe

by Bugggghead



Series: spend the holidays with bughead [4]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty and Jughead dress up in matching costumes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Smut, and find themselves at the same party, and neither one knew they'd be wearing the other half of a coordinated costume, archie andrews plays matchmaker, by the end they get along QUITE well, except they don't exactly get along, more than well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: At their mutual friend, Archie Andrews' Christmas party, Betty and Jughead find themselves caught under the mistletoe.





	underneath the mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theheavycrown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheavycrown/gifts).



> theheavycrown said:
> 
> I didn't realize you were doing the wintery prompts too! All the mini games for the holiday! How about 48. we don’t like each other, but we’re at a mutual friend’s Christmas party and we keep getting caught under the mistletoe together - yasssss
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/hdbWmY5)

*

 

 

 

“Kiss, Kiss, Kiss!”

 

Betty looked at Jughead, a red and white hat tilted across his forehead. He’d never come across as the particularly festive type, not that she knew him all that well anyway. He and Archie had moved in together roughly a year ago, a new addition to both Riverdale and her life. Granted, she hadn’t seen him often at all: the few holidays she’d come home and the even fewer times she’d grabbed Pop’s with Archie to catch up. But, even then, between the sarcastic drawled responses and general air of broodiness he exuded, she would have sworn he wouldn’t touch a Santa outfit with a ten-foot pole. 

 

“Again?” He tilted his head to the side, clearly eyeing their mutual best friend who was chanting along with the crowd.

 

“It’s not a big deal,” she mumbled, tugging at the white fur lining the edge of her arguably too short Mrs. Claus skirt. The crowd was still chanting, for the third time that night she noted, as they stood uncomfortably under another bunch of mistletoe hanging from the kitchen door frame. “Let’s just-”

 

He cut her off with another kiss, his lips pressed to hers with a feeling that was quickly bordering on familiarity and the crowd erupted in cheers. This time his hands slid around her neck, the pads of his fingers pressing into the soft flesh at the back as his thumbs settled under her jaw to tilt it upward. The cheers died down and the crowd thinned out before he pulled back. “If I’m not mistaken, Betty Cooper,” he said with the edges of his lips twisting up in a smile, “you’re starting to rather enjoy this.”

 

“Am not,” she scoffed, shaking the warm, fuzzy feeling buzzing between her ears away as she feigned disinterest. “It’s not my fault you decided to dress up as Santa. I’m  _ always _ Mrs. Claus at Archie’s annual Christmas party.”

 

“ _ I decided _ to dress up as Santa? Excuse me? Archie  _ forced  _ me into his costume with the promise of pizza and Call of Duty. This was  _ not  _ my idea. You’re the one who keeps following me. If you’d just stay away from me like normal, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

 

“Oh, so now I’m a problem? Why? Because I came to the same Christmas party I do every single year, wearing the same thing, and happen to walk around the house? Get over yourself, Jones. I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.”

 

“Whatever,” he scoffed, brushing past her and into the kitchen. Betty was left standing in the doorway, biting her lip and regretting every word. She’d never been the type to utter an unkind word, even when warranted, at least not aloud. And yet somehow she’d just told her best friend’s new best friend that he was full of himself. 

 

She hadn’t been following him around at all. In fact, she’d spent the better part of the night searching for Archie and was continually interrupted by inopportune mistletoe strategically placed throughout the house. She figured he deserved a fair warning, her parents would be selling her childhood home next door and soon the Cooper house would hold a new family. But, in true Archie fashion, he’d been distracted by anyone with a short skirt and this time by the man she’d so callously called out mere minutes before.

 

-

 

A short while later, Betty was standing outside on the front porch, leering over at the dark shell of what was once her home. Truthfully, she’d needed a break. After chasing Archie around his own house for the better part of two hours, she’d finally given up, making her way out into the crisp winter air for a breather. The house was practically a sweatbox, every room packed with too many unfamiliar faces to feel comfortable. 

 

For the first time, she would be spending Christmas in Riverdale without a single family member within a hundred mile radius. She’d come back to seek comfort in the presence of her lifelong best friend, only to repeatedly be put on the back burner, tossed aside and ignored as though she was just another face in the crowd. She knew Archie was dealing with his own set of challenges: his mother states away and his father in rehab for a pain pill addiction. But she  _ needed _ him, just like she had needed him when she’d received the call that before the house was prepped for sale, her things would be packed up and shipped to her New York dorm. However, when she’d called, he brushed her off with a mouthful of pizza and Jughead’s video game commentary in the background. It had left her feeling just as she had during the party, as though her friendship took a backseat to his newest interests and  _ she _ was somehow less worthy.

 

“Come here often?”

 

The deep voice rattled her from her reverie. “Unfortunately,” she answered flatly.

 

“I don’t like crowds either. Mind if I hang out here for a little while? I think this porch is big enough for us both.”

 

Betty shook her head. “Go right ahead.”

 

“Where are your parents?” he asked, pointing over to the imposing outline of her old house.

 

“Out for the holidays.” The response was automatic, flat, dry, devoid of even a hint of emotion. It’d taken practice to learn how to hide her feelings, reducing answers to questions she wasn’t prepared for to little white lies. They  _ were  _ gone for the holidays, just not together, and they’d never be going back to the house in question.

 

Jughead mimicked her stance, leaning against the railing less than a foot away. He tilted his head in her direction. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”

 

“I’m not.” An automatic defensive response stiffened her spine. Without a second thought, she scoffed and shot him a decidedly unkind look. 

 

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”  Turning away from her, he looked back out to the house.

 

She didn’t move, fixing her gaze on him, studying the way his eyes bounced around the yard, the street lamp’s glow dotting his irises.

 

“Okay, fine. I don’t know why you’re pushing me anyway because you clearly don’t like me, but you’re right. It’s a lie. My parents are selling my house, not that you’d know or, or even care. They’re getting a divorce and I’ve been trying to tell Archie but he keeps blowing me off. I even came back to Riverdale specifically to give him a heads up but I can’t seem to catch his attention long enough to utter two words.” Betty groaned, leaning forward and dragging her palms across her face. “Maybe my skirt isn’t short enough,” she muttered.

 

He scooted closer, ducking his head to catch her eye. “I think your skirt is perfect, and don’t give him too hard of a time, he’s drinking himself stupid to avoid his current harsh reality. Albeit entirely in vain, but I’ll point that out when he’s a bit more sober.”

 

“You’re a good friend,” she offered in a softer tone as she turned to meet his eyes.

 

“Yeah,  _ right _ .”

 

“I mean it, Jug.” She could lie to herself and say she’d had too much eggnog but she felt the pull in her chest to be honest, not just to him but to herself as well. She reached her hand over and laid it on his forearm. “You’re a good friend for being there for him when I - I couldn’t be. I know it’s been hard for him, and I know I haven’t always been the nicest to you. Maybe I was jealous?” It came out more as a question than a fact, but she knew it was the latter. “Archie’s always been  _ my  _ best friend and when I moved, we talked less and less. Then you came into his life and it felt like,” she paused, sucking in a breath. “It felt like I was being replaced. So I’m sorry for that.”

 

“Betty,” he mumbled, fixing his eyes on the spot where her thumb was swiping against his sweater. “Archie’s been the best friend I’ve ever had. I’ve never known someone so openly accepting in my life and we just… I don’t know, we just clicked. I never meant to take your place, and truth be told, I don’t think anyone could ever take your place in his life. I think Archie may be the only guy I know who has a heart big enough for everyone.”

 

Betty laughed at that. “You’re right. He is. I’m - I’m sorry, Jughead, for being short with you and-”

 

“It’s fine. I get it. I’d probably do the same,” he mused. “But if you ever need, um... If you ever need to talk to someone, you know when Archie’s not around, I’m more than willing to be uh, to be that person.”

 

Her eyes softened. “Jug.”

 

“God that sounds stupid.”

 

“No,” she huffed out, inching closer and looking up at him. “No, Jug. That’s sweet. Thank you.”

 

“I mean it, Betty.”

 

“I know you do,” she whispered, gripping his arm a bit tighter as she stared into his eyes. They were a strange mixture of dark and light, as blue as the sky but as deep as the ocean. She knew there was something to be pulled from that, the metaphorical highs and lows in stark contrast to one another despite the way they seamlessly melded together in his irises. However, she couldn’t form a coherent thought as she drifted closer, his hot breath fanning across her lips.

 

They’d already kissed earlier, three times to be exact, but somehow when she pressed her lips to his, this one felt different. There were no cheers, no chants, no watchful eyes spying on them as she leaned into him. With a quick swipe of his tongue, she opened her mouth wider, deepening the kiss. Vaguely, she felt his hands grip her waist as her own arms looped around his neck.

 

Despite the frigid chill in the air, she felt warmth spread through her as they drew closer, breaking minutes later to gulp in the air they’d been robbing from each other in the intensity of the moment. “Look, Jug,” she whispered, pointing up to the little bunch of greenery above their heads. “Mistletoe.”

 

As he glanced up, his lips quirked at the edges before he met her gaze again. “Looks like you had an excuse.” He rubbed his fingers over the velvet of her dress as she idly played with the soft hair nestled beneath his festive hat.

 

“I’m not sure I need one,” she breathed, leaning into him for a soft, simple kiss.

 

-

 

They’d spent a bit longer on the porch, enjoying the silence and getting to know one another without the middleman that had always been present. When the party guests started to leave, he’d nervously asked if she wanted to go upstairs, and despite her best-laid plans, she’d nodded, letting him tug her into the house and up the stairs before anyone saw.

 

Betty had always found Jughead objectively attractive, even through the thin veil of disdain she’d maintained. But being in his room as he shed his jacket and unlaced his shoes, ridding himself of the warm layers, she found herself trapping her lip between her teeth, caught up in the sight of him in nothing but jeans and a thin white tank top. “I hope you don’t mind.”

 

“Not at all,” she assured quickly, maybe a little too quickly if the smug grin curling between his cheeks was any indication.

 

Their time on the porch had softened her resolve to put up any kind of front, so she didn’t fight her desire to be closer. She stepped toward him, winding her arms around his neck before she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

 

Her fingers carded through his surprisingly silken locks, pushing the hat from his head as they found purchase scraping his scalp. She swallowed his moan as she pressed up against him, the heat from their embrace making her head swirl.

 

He pulled back. “Betty, we don’t have to-”

 

“I want to,” she insisted, surging forward to kiss him again. “I want this,” she repeated against his lips, letting one hand trail down to the hem of his tank top. 

 

“Fuck, Betts,” he growled, gripping her wrist and pulling her hand away. “I do, too, but you’ve had a bit to drink and I don’t want you to regret this.”

 

“That was hours ago, Juggie.” The nickname slipped from her lips, her eyes widening sincerely. “I’m well aware of what I’m doing and who I’m doing it with. I want this. I want you. Do you want me?”

 

“More than you know.” This time he captured her mouth, pressing his lips hard against hers with a renewed fervor.

 

Before she could reach for his top again, his hands drifted to her thighs, cupping the supple flesh just below her ass and hoisting her up into his arms. She could feel him through the thin cotton of her underwear, her skirt pushed up to her hips as he carried her the few feet to his bed. His mouth trailed down her neck, drawing a moan from her chest as she tightened her legs around his hips.

 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, Betty. Has anyone ever told you that?” His lips brushed against her throat with every word.

 

“N - N - No,” she panted, goosebumps rising as she felt his hot breath fan across her sensitive skin.

 

He set her down and stepped back, drawing his gaze up to her eyes from her toes. “Take it off.”

 

With her eyes locked on his, she nodded, slowly threading her fingers under the hem of the red velvet top and dragging it slowly upward. “Like this?” she asked, her fingernails brushing the top of her ribs as the continued the painstakingly slow pace. He hummed his approval and she continued, cresting the top of her breasts and reaching her arms up to finish the top’s ascent. As soon as it was off, she tossed it at him, scooting back against the headboard and gesturing to his still fully clothed figure. “Care to join me?”

 

“Not yet. I want to see you - all of you, Betty, every inch of your beautiful body on full display in my bed. Can you do that for me?”

 

She hadn’t even realized she’d been biting her lip until a flash of pain registered. She nodded her head, slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of the matching skirt. A few long moments passed as she locked her eyes on his. Pushing the skirt past her hips, she slowly dragged it down her legs, leaving her bare beyond a red and white candy-striped lingerie set. 

 

“Like what you see?”

 

“You have no fucking idea.” His hand came down to press at the seam of his jeans, the outline of his arousal straining against the zipper. “You look like a goddamned candy cane, Betts.”

 

“I’m glad you like them.”

 

“I’ll like them even better when they’re off.” His palm pressed harder, tilting back and forth. “You were really feeling the holiday spirit, weren’t you?” 

 

“What can I say? Christmas is my favorite time of year.”

 

“After tonight, it might be mine too.”

 

Betty giggled as she reached behind her back to fiddle with the clasp of her candy cane bra. As soon as it was off, Jughead groaned and she couldn’t help but smile. 

 

The boost to her confidence sent Betty’s fingers down to curl around the thin red string of her underwear, dragging them past her thighs before she kicked them off. Truthfully, she  _ was  _ enjoying his reactions as she removed each article of clothing at a painfully slow pace, but her own patience was wearing thin and all she really wanted was for him to join her in the same state of undress.

 

She lifted her hand, curling one finger to beckon him over. Within seconds, he surged forward and she tilted her hips up to meet him as he settled between her legs. 

 

“Your turn,” she whispered against his lips, her fingers hooking around the hem of his tank top and pulling up. He sat back to flick open the zipper of his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers before tossing them aside. 

 

“Better?” Leaning down, he crushed his lips to hers, trailing his finger down her sides to trace her hips.

 

Moaning her assent, she arched off the bed as he toyed with the tender skin of her thighs, teasing the skin mere inches from where she wanted him most. “Please,” she breathed, tilting her hips again as he found her folds. 

 

“Is this what you want Betty?” His breath was hot against his ear before he nipped at the lobe, eliciting a gasp as she nodded her head vigorously. 

 

“Yes,” she hissed, raking her nails down his back as his fingers began lightly exploring.

 

“You’re so fucking wet.”

 

“Mmm,” she hummed, trailing kisses along his neck.

 

He slipped one finger inside her and she bit his shoulder to hold back a moan. She knew she didn’t need to praise his skills, the way her body was reacting spoke louder than any words she could muster. 

 

It didn’t take long, the steady rhythm he was building brought her closer and closer with each pump of his fingers. Her nails dug into his back when she finally tipped over the edge, a series of obscenities spilling from her lips as she coated his hand in her arousal. 

 

She felt him pull his hand back, brushing it against his boxers before she reached down to yank them off. “I want you, all of you - tonight.”

 

And just like that, she could feel him, hot and hard and throbbing against her. 

 

“C-Condom,” he choked out as she pressed her hips into his, seeking the friction she so desperately desired.

 

In a matter of seconds, he’d reached over, grabbed the small foil package, and ripped it open with his teeth before rolling it on. He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her mouth and then he pushed inside of her, every sinful inch stretching the skin that only she’d touched for longer than she could recall. The only words spoken as he sunk in were ‘yes’ and ‘more’ accompanied by a series of gasps as groans as they both adjusted. Then his lips returned to hers once more, sucking and twisting their tongues in a way that felt far too familiar to be brand new. He pulled back slowly before pushing forward again, the sweep of his length against her throbbing folds felt intense enough to nearly make her come all over again. 

 

“Faster.” She sucked in a breath between searing kisses to make a demand. And he obliged, their bodies met at a bruising pace as they raced towards the brink. 

 

His mouth found purchase on her neck, sucking a bruising kiss against the nape as he muttered, “Fuck,” into her skin. 

 

In an attempt to ground herself, she pressed her nails against his shoulders, digging into the soft flesh. Every centimeter of skin that touched his tingled as a burning desire coursed through her veins.

 

Betty came with her toes curled, one leg wrapped around his, and a moan that she was sure even the neighbors could hear as he spilled inside of her. She had never had that happen before - reaching her peak in perfect synchronicity with a partner - and the implications that laid therein were too much to even process as she came down with shaking legs.

 

It didn’t even feel awkward when he pulled out and offered to show her the bathroom so she could clean herself up. 

 

As soon as she returned, she found him holding out a ribbed, white tank top and pair of plaid pajama bottoms for her to wear. There was no need to protest, it wasn’t like she was going to put her costume back on and after two earth-shattering orgasms. 

 

Stars burst behind her eyelids as he took her hand, guiding her toward into the bed. She sunk into his mattress and curled into his side before he pulled the covers over them both.

 

They traded kisses until they fell asleep, ignoring the question of what the next morning would bring. Instead, they stayed wrapped in the bliss that they had found in each other, anything and everything outside of his bed simply didn’t exist.

 

-

 

The morning dawned with sun-streaked lines painting the sheets. Betty’s eyes fluttered open as she took in the scene around her. Their red and white coordinating Mr. and Mrs. Claus disguises were puddled in a heap in the corner of the room. Jughead was sound asleep next to her, the steady rise and fall of his bare chest against her cheek more comforting than she thought it ought to be.

 

A loud knock sounded once, then twice, and she tried to shake him awake. She was greeted by a sleep laiden look as he pulled her closer and his heavy lids made her want a repeat performance from the night before. But when the insistent knock sounded again, he seemed to be broken from the morning haze and he quickly looked around the room.

 

In an instant, the door handle turned and their clearly hungover, red-headed friend stepped over the threshold. He froze, taking in the scene. “Well good morning to you both.”

 

Betty could feel the heat seeping onto her cheeks and she was sure it damn near matched the color of their costumes. 

 

But before the embarrassment could really sink in, Jughead’s arms tightened around her, pulling her back against him. “Get the fuck out, Archie,” he called and before their friend turned to leave, he added, “And lock the door while you’re at it.”

 

Archie grinned, swinging the door shut, but he chirped on his way out, “Told you that suit was a good idea, Jug.”

  
  
  
*

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to theheavycrown for betaing this drabble turned one shot. She's magical guys, I swear.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought about this little story !
> 
> Thank you for reading. Comments ALWAYS appreciated! (It may take me a while to respond but I love each and every one of them SO much)
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @bugggghead !


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